


Late Flights and City Lights

by thebestthingsincefriedchicken (Sapphire__Sky)



Category: NCT (Band), NCT 127 - Fandom, NCT U - Fandom
Genre: Airports, Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Because of Reasons, Blowjobs, Both Boys are SOFT so It's Okay Here, Bottom Mark Lee (NCT), But Not Too Soft if Ya Catch Ma Drift, But not today, Condoms Are Important!!!, Crush at First Sight, Dirty Talk, Dom Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas, Don't Try This At Home, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Respect these TALENTED boys as Artists, I'm blushing so hard asjkfhf, In A Rapid Fashion, Kinda?, Lucas is a Cocky Mofo, Lucas is a Little Shit, Lust at First Sight, M/M, Mark Lee (NCT) is Whipped, Mentioned Lee Donghyuk | Haechan, Mildly Dangerous, NCT 2018, NCT U, One Shot, PDA, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Sexy Times, Size Kink, Smut, So Wrong It's Right, Soft Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas, Strangers, Strangers to Lovers, Sweet Mark Lee (NCT), Sweet Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas, The Power Bottoms Will Rise, They make out in a taxi, Top Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas, Very graphic smut, Will Become A Series, Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas is Whipped, Y'all don't do this, You Don't Have to Sub To Be A Bottom, anal penetration, are mentioned - Freeform, first and foremost, friendly reminder, hah maybe?, hah u like that clickbait cause I DO, nct 127, nct smut, sub mark lee, yeah he's a tiny boi but what can I do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-28 17:19:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17791538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sapphire__Sky/pseuds/thebestthingsincefriedchicken
Summary: Mark doesn’t splutter, doesn’t choke- fights against the urge to tug Yukhei down by the collar of his shirt and wipe that irritatingly attractive smirk off of his face. He holds fast against the scarlet blush tinting his cheeks and ears, ignores the heat sweeping across his neck and collarbones.Stubborn and unyielding, Mark doesn’t want to give Yukhei the satisfaction of seeing his effect.Yeah, that lasts about 0.2 seconds, because Mark is so focused onnotreacting that he doesn’t realize he’snot breathing.





	Late Flights and City Lights

**Author's Note:**

> huehuehuehuehue
> 
> this is unedited, as my normal peeps have been hella busy for a month. This has been sitting in my drafts for, like, 5 weeks so I wanted to go ahead and post. I may come back to it later with edits, once they've had a chance to view it and send me their notes on issues I couldn't see.
> 
> I write hella graphic smut, detailed n' stuff, so yeah. have fun and smut responsibly.

Red lights rhythmically hue Yukhei’s profile, the flashing sign above their heads plunging them in and out of the predawn darkness.

Mark tilts his head back, feels the other’s warm breath curling over his cheek.

They’re standing where the pick-up lane intersects with the drop-off, Shanghai’s massive airport complex lighting up the sky behind him and vehicles filling the road before him. This moment, standing so close that they can feel the heat radiating off each other, breathe the air the other exhales, draws into a small eternity.

Neither of them pulls away; they shift closer when the bustle of Shanghai International Airport intensifies, strangers bumping and pushing them further into each other’s space. 

It’s so cold outside that Mark can’t feel his face- except for the heat blazing on his cheeks, shading them a ruddy hue-, but his chest sings with warmth.

The pair have known each other for just short of three hours, but Mark has learned just enough about the almost-stranger to know he wants _more_ ; wants to see the tanned skin Yukhei hides beneath the collar of his coat, map the valleys and rises of his broad chest, hear him utter Mark’s name like a plea. Almost as much as Mark longs to touch, he wants to be touched; Yukhei’s hands, his mouth, his everything- Mark aches for it.

Yukhei’s eyes bore into the younger’s own- a promise of something filthier, darker, _more_ glinting in their depths.

“ _You want me_.” The English language falls thickly from the elder’s tongue, an accent shading his words.

Mark wants to say _yes_ , but dammit, Yukhei didn’t _ask_. There was no question when he spoke, only a sultry confidence that gets under Mark's skin as much as the hand rubbing circles on his waist does. 

Part of him revels in the finality of the other’s tone, the unwavering timbre, the promise held captive within his words, demanding release. It makes Mark want to be _good_ ; to earn praises that fall from Yukhei’s pretty lips, hear how beautiful he looks spread open and fucked out beneath Yukhei, feel his big hands tucking through Mark's hair, cradling him, only to press _deeper_. 

He can practically hear it. “ _Fuck, just like that. You’re doing so well for me, such a good boy_.”

Another part of Mark is wicked, whispering filthy little thoughts that tug the blood in veins to where he wants to feel Yukhei the most. The image of Yukhei’s body straining, flexing taught as he struggles not to move- _not to touch_ \- while Mark slides down on him torturously slow has the younger’s form humming with adrenaline. He wants to watch Yukhei plead, watch him crumble from confidence and assertion to a mess of choked moans and depravity.

Mark doesn’t know which desire he’d rather give in to.

It’s been fifteen seconds at least since Yukhei uttered the statement, but the thoughts and images that hurtle through Mark’s brain have effectively stolen his words. When Yukhei cocks his head to the side, a smirk tilting up the corner of his lips, it’s like he can see right through the shorter man. 

It’s as if Mark wears it on his sleeve. Desperation simmers just beneath the surface, a need that has the younger’s chest tightening with every breath he heaves. 

Mark has never felt so transparent before, nor so brazen.

What he wants is obvious, but dammit Yukhei shouldn’t be so _fucking cocksure_ about it. 

It _should_ have been a question. Yukhei _should_ have been uncertain because dammit they just met, and they don’t even know each other that well.

But it _wasn’t._

That simple fact drives Mark so far up the wall that he doesn’t know if he’ll ever regain his footing. Yukhei has knocked him off-kilter, off-balance, off his fucking rocker, and he loves it.

“Don’t you think that’s a little forward?” Mark finally asks, tone pitched low, refusing to let his voice waver. 

Yukhei’s gaze focuses unabashedly on Mark’s lips as he murmurs, “I know what I want.” 

Although his knees weaken and the insinuation, the younger keeps his cool in spite of the desire that stirs inside him. 

Mark doesn’t splutter, doesn’t choke- fights against the urge to tug Yukhei down by the collar of his shirt and wipe that irritatingly attractive smirk off of his face. He holds fast against the scarlet blush tinting his cheeks and ears, ignores the heat sweeping across his neck and collarbones.

Stubborn and unyielding, Mark doesn’t want to give Yukhei the satisfaction of seeing his effect.

Yeah, that lasts about 0.2 seconds, because Mark is so focused on _not_ reacting that he doesn’t realize he’s _not breathing._

“Fuck,” he exhales when his lungs begin to burn, ripping himself away from Yukhei, and the Chinese man has the audacity to laugh. Despite the genuine merriment in the chuckle, it’s deep and velvety and somehow _indulgent_. If there was such a thing  
as a sex laugh, that shit was it. Heat pools in Mark’s gut, sings in his veins and he feels dizzy. It’s been two hours of innuendos and suggestive glances, and why the fuck did Mark _sit on Yukhei’s lap earlier, now he knows how nice his thighs are._

Quickly, the taller man’s laugh dies. Yukhei seems to mourn the loss of intimacy as air rushes into the space Mark left; his shoulders curve down, and he almost takes a step to follow the shorter man.

The knowledge that Yukhei might be one confident motherfucker, but he wants Mark badly enough to _chase_ him fills the younger with a twisted sense of power. He takes the taller man’s hand, and fights through the crowd to reach the street. 

Yukhei’s hand blankets Mark’s own -which is new and foreign because Mark really isn’t small-, his embrace balmy and pleasant around Mark’s chilled fingers. The Canadian isn’t thinking about other ways big, brawny Yukhei could cover him, cage him in sizzling heat, make him feel _tiny._

Nope. Not thinking about it at all.

As Yukhei follows him, pressing so close against his back that Mark can practically feel taut muscle even through their puffy winter clothes, Mark focuses every remaining brain cell (he only has a few left after the Fire Safety Seminar hosted by his best friend, Donghyuck, in 2016) on not doing something publicly indecent.

Well, nothing _more_ publicly indecent than shifting his hand back to tug gently on Yukhei’s belt as they walk, because Yukhei is _right there_ , his body never more than an inch away from Mark’s. 

When the younger hails a taxi, Yukhei reaches around him to open the door, his chin tucked down next to Mark’s ear. “After you,” he hums, breath tickling the sensitive skin just below it.

Mark fucking _whimpers_ at that. He can feel heat flush across his neck, chasing the cloud of Yukhei’s exhale.

Yukhei stands behind him, broad and strong and somehow _protective_ , if that makes sense. Although everything he does is meant to pull Mark apart, he’s there with a sturdy arm around Mark’s waist, holding him up. 

The Canadian’s breath stutters in his chest, blood runs hot in his veins, a pleasant haze settling over his mind as a shock travels down his spine. 

Damn his sensitive neck, it’s about to get him in trouble.

Lunging forward, Mark all but drags Yukhei into the cab, their light luggage tumbling roughly about their legs. Before the Chinese man can even fully close the door, Mark is half on top of him, knees pressed against the other’s left thigh. 

“Tell him the address.” Mark commands, wiggling his hand out from the hold Yukhei has on him, drawing lines over the elder’s shoulder and collarbone. He presses ever closer until he can slip his cold fingers under the collar of Yukhei’s jacket, and his torso conforms to Yukhei’s side. Mark adds, “And tell him to step on it, otherwise he’s going to see me blowing you in the backseat of his car.”

It’s bold. It’s really fucking bold and under the facade Mark’s shitting bricks, but his legs are shaking, and he’ll be damned if Yukhei isn’t as affected as he is by the end of this drive.

Granted, Mark’s assuming he’s not already affected.

… Hah.

The statement has Yukhei choking on air, but when Mark traces his lips over the shell of Yukhei’s ear -just to be certain he gets his point across- the taller repeats the instructions to the driver in rapid-fire Mandarin. The younger revels in the rasp in the elder’s tone, swings his leg around so that he’s straddling one of Yukhei’s thighs. Mark’s brushing his lips over the other’s clean-shaven jaw when the driver says something back, but he’s not fluent enough in the language to know what.

“What did he say?” He murmurs into the crook of Yukhei’s neck, a pretty flush chasing the rush of Mark’s breath.

“Uh, something about seatbelts, and to stop- _hahh_ \- being dirty shits.” Yukhei’s hands clutch Mark’s hips and fuck, yeah, it’s already been established but Yukhei’s hands are _huge_. They’re spanning over half of Mark’s waist, under his coat, and it’s breathtaking. Mark’s dick stirs in his pants, and shit he doesn’t care _why_ Yukhei held him, just so long as he never let’s go.

“Mar- _mm_ \- Mark, he’s got a point.” Yukhei has some trouble getting the words out, because shit, the weight of the younger on top of him feels wonderful. The responding non-committal hum is paired with Mark rutting down on his thigh, and fuck if that doesn’t send Yukhei.

This isn’t what he expected; he thought Mark would be all shy responses and quiet moans that would have to be coaxed out; thought he’d pliant and sweet for him. The guy practically exuded awkward-soft-nerd vibes. Not once did it cross his mind that Mark would be rolling his hips on top of the elder’s leg, threatening to suck him off in a taxi. He’s all pretty lips brushing wet, open-mouthed kisses against Yukhei’s throat, breathy voice, filthy touches, and Yukhei’s having a hard time focusing long enough to _do_ something about it. 

It’s not an unpleasant surprise.

Mark moans quietly into his neck when he rolls down again, his dick straining against his jeans, the friction heady and borderline painful. His lips trail up to find a spot just under Yukhei’s jaw. One of Mark’s hands finds its way underneath Yukhei’s coat, fingering over his abs through his shirt while the other hand plays with the hem.

Shit, shit, _definitely_ not unpleasant.

He gathers the strength to tilt Mark’s torso back and meet his eyes.

 _Big fucking mistake_.

Hazy and heavy-lidded, Mark glares at him like a man depraved, eyes alight with wicked intent while the seam of his mouth quirks up into an innocent smile. Seriously, how the fuck is Yukhei supposed to deal with _that_? 

Yukhei’s heart stutters in his chest, which isn’t supposed to be humanly possible, but he’s not going to question it. _Mark_ shouldn’t be humanly possible, but here he is looking like sin incarnate, his dark hair mussed, and pink lips bitten red. He’s ethereal, and Yukhei has him in his arms.

He’s not about to fuck this up by thinking.

“You know, he’s probably right. Safety first, and all that.” Mark settles his weight back, still somewhat hesitant to clamber off him. After glancing out the window- to evaluate their surroundings, not to escape Yukhei’s dark, riveting stare _melting his soul like it’s ice in lava how the fuck is he doing that_ \- Mark continues, “How far away is your apartment, again? You said ten minutes, right?”

“Yeah, about that far.” One hand winds tighter around Mark’s waist, drawing him closer, while the other sweeps over his thigh in smooth, calculated strokes. “Don’t worry about the driver, you’re safe right here.” For all Yukhei’s confidence and playfulness, there’s an underlying sincerity that claims Mark’s attention.

The elder’s gaze has shifted. Yukhei’s eyes, though still hooded and sensual, are filled with a startling clarity, heartfelt truth ringing in his words.

Mark struggles with a sense of whiplash before he smiles, bright and earnest. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t believe that.”

The other seems genuinely happy to hear it, the hand that was on Mark’s thigh weaving up into the black hairs at the nape of Mark’s neck. Yukhei’s gaze dips, heady and lustful once more. 

They’re close again, centimeters apart, and Yukhei’s still leaning in. Mark follows willingly, very intent on finding out what Yukhei tastes like.

“May I?” The elder asks quietly, his tone already raspy. When he’s close enough that Mark can almost _feel_ his lips, he tilts his head to the side, and just like that Mark’s a goner.

 _“Please,”_ he whimpers, fingers curling into Yukhei’s shirt. His need for the taller man drives him to press _closer_ \- chest to chest. That irritating smirk returns for one, two seconds, before the taller finally closes the gap between them. 

_Soft_.

Mark’s eyes close for single moment, caught up in the sudden pressure that’s _warm_ and _soft_ and _gentle_ , before widening again, startled. Surprise overrides the need to kiss back, and he sits shock-still in Yukhei’s lap. For all the indecency and intensity of their position, their attraction, Yukhei’s kissing him like he’s something precious, breakable.

They slot together almost perfectly, plush velvet and silk melting together. All he can register is the smooth glide of Yukhei against him, his hand moving from Mark’s nape to his cheek, tilting his head to a better angle. 

Eye-lids drifting down slowly, Mark feels Yukhei press a little harder, prodding him, and he finally gains the sense to kiss back. Yukhei hums contentedly when Mark parts his lips, sweet and willing, offering _more_.

Everything in the younger begs to be just that little bit closer to the other man.

Yukhei’s definitely experienced, and Mark thanks all his lucky stars because it means he gets to be kissed _like this_.

Yukhei kisses with a gentle passion, slow and just desperate enough that they bump noses from time to time. It’s careful, but pushes just past coherency, and it’s _enough_.

It’s enough, sitting like this and reveling in the movements of Yukhei’s lips on his.

Until it _isn’t_.

Suddenly, kissing Yukhei is torture and Mark reconsiders every life decision that led him here because Yukhei is touching him _everywhere_. Just as the tip of Yukhei’s tongue slips past Mark’s lips, the arm wrapped about his waist moves, hand drawing lightly over his sides, venturing to his thighs and back up. Yukhei maps Mark’s body, searches for naughty little nooks and spots to abuse, Mark’s t-shirt doing little to apprehend the bittersweet sensations assaulting him.

His heart leaps to his throat, thumps so loud he’s certain Yukhei can hear it, that the Chinese man knows which touches make it race and stutter.

Mark wants to break away from Yukhei’s embrace, suddenly _hot_ and _wet_ and _hungry_ , and the younger doesn’t know what to do. He’s squirming above Yukhei, quiet sounds swallowed by Yukhei’s mouth as his tongue laps over Mark’s- _slippery_ and _gross_ and _wonderful_.

As much as he’s overwhelmed by the sudden escalation, the taller man’s mouth is addicting, and Mark can’t stop- he _won’t_. He’ll take whatever Yukhei wants to give him because it’s wretched, and filthy, and Mark wants all of it. 

To Mark’s dismay, Yukhei pulls away, but not to allow the smaller the chance to breathe that he so desperately needs. His lips work over Mark’s jaw, pressing sloppy kisses along the way as he kneads the younger’s waist, and Mark threads his fingers into Yukhei’s blond hair, holding him there.

“You’re so tiny here,” Yukhei observes, touching just above Mark’s hips, mouthing along his neck, frowning when Mark’s high-collared shirt hinders him.

“Yukhei- _hng_!” Mark breaks off, keening when Yukhei thumbs over his nipple, and sucks on a particularly sensitive spot below his ear.

Yukhei grins smugly against the younger’s skin, and Mark can almost feel arrogance dripping from the tip of the elder’s tongue. 

“Lucky guess,” Mark huffs.

Suddenly, the vehicle jolts to a stop. Mark is thrown roughly against the backs of the front seats, wincing and dazed.

Oh yeah, they’re still in a car. Mark hadn’t forgotten that. Not at all.

The pair share a look, and Mark tries not to laugh while he lies awkwardly over the middle console.

Yukhei mumbles a guilty, “I’m sorry, I said I’d hold you steady,” but Mark barely catches it, too busy gaping at him. Yukhei’s blond hair is tousled, falling over his dark eyes haphazardly. A ruddy hue shades his cheeks, tinting the tanned skin enough to be visible even in the low light.

Mark shakes his head. “Worth it,” he says, smiling. He’s about to continue, a fiendish excitement simmers beneath his skin and he can see it in Yukhei as well, but his thoughts are cut off.

“We’ve arrived.” The driver is curt, and obviously uncomfortable; he keeps his eyes trained on the steering wheel while he fidgets in his seat. The ‘ _please get the hell out of my car,_ ’ is left unsaid, but Mark still ducks his head sheepishly. A pleasant buzz weighs comfortably over his body. He glances at Yukhei out of his peripheral.

The predatory glint in his eyes contrasts against the initial tenderness Yukhei had shown him, and it steals the breath from Mark’s lungs.

Yukhei looks like he wants to eat him.

Mark kind of wants him to.

It’s more difficult than it should be to pull his wallet from his pocket, and Mark realizes it’s because his hands are shaking. He all but throws the money at the driver while he struggles to open the door and step out. Yukhei helps him, his presence reassuring as he moves to support Mark. 

“Wow, okay. Uh, I can’t feel my legs,” he confesses to fill the silence, feeling awkward and embarrassed now that the moment has ended. 

“Just to be sure, that’s because of me, right? You don’t have like, low blood sugar or something?” The arm around Mark’s midriff holds him near, stays strong and steady as the pair tread across the city street, and into the apartment building. “I mean, I have food in my fridge? Maybe? I make a mean omelet, and there should still be some eggs,” he offers, gesturing with his hands as he speaks. 

“No, Yukhei. This is all you.” Mark laughs, and it’s easy. It’s not awkward anymore. Yukhei is a dork, and it reminds Mark of why he was so okay with this in the first place. He continues before Yukhei can make a smug comment,“Although, I might take you up on that omelet, later.” 

“Later, huh?” Yukhei’s got this self-satisfied smile on his face, and it isn’t charming in the least.

Mark hates it. He hates it so much he wants to kiss it, because he likes it.

A quiet “Mhm,” is Mark’s only response.

Luckily Yukhei’s apartment is on the first floor, because Mark doesn’t think he can make it an entire elevator ride without jumping Yukhei’s bones; not when the Chinese man is tugging Mark back against him as they walk. It’s like he can’t get enough, like Mark is just as addicting to him as he is to Mark.

The younger loves it; loves the expanse of Yukhei’s broad chest against his back.

“Ah, home sweet home,” he says, once they reach his door. The key is finicky, and it takes a few tries to unlock. 

Mark barely has the chance to enter, not even able to glimpse the interior of the apartment before something- _someone_ \- blocks his vision, pinning him against the door. His dick stiffens at the pain of the impact, a twisted kind of pleasure buzzing through his nerves.

Yukhei’s there, one hand on Mark’s chest and the other curling over his hip, bent down just enough that Mark can feel the elder’s breath on his lips, _taste_ it. But he stops, hovering a centimeter too far away. The shorter tilts his chin up, chasing Yukhei’s lips, but to no avail; Yukhei evades him, leaves just enough space for them not to touch, but remains torturously close.

“Before we do this, I need you to tell me what you like, and what you don’t,” he murmurs, dipping to mouth against Mark’s jaw. “Can you do that for me, _baby_?”

The windows shut down music rings in Mark’s ears.

That word sounds so good falling from Yukhei’s lips, his dusky tone shooting molten heat down Mark’s spine. 

“Fuck, don’t call me that, uh… _Shit_ ,” he mumbles, threading his fingers through Yukhei’s floppy hair. The taller must have felt Mark’s erection by now, straining beneath his zipper, crushed against the other’s thick thigh.

“Why, you don’t like it?” Yukhei asks, and there’s something about his tone that absolutely _sends_ Mark. The former isn’t asking a question for the answer- he already has it- he’s _mocking_ Mark. His lips graze over Mark’s pulse, gauging what makes it race.

“No- no I just can’t, _ah_ , focus if you do,” he stutters when Yukhei presses his thigh firmly against Mark’s crotch, and laps over the vein in his neck. “Jesus, I can’t even remember what you asked me.”

Yukhei chuckles at that, breathy and raw. “I asked you what you like, _baby_. I want to make you feel good, see your pretty face all fucked out,” Mark yelps at that, body shivering at the rumble in his voice, and it spurs Yukhei to add, “ _because of me_.”

Mark’s just about done being the only one losing his ever-loving shit. 

Huffing, he maneuvers the elder’s hands under his own thighs, and jumps. He rocks down once he’s settled, basking in the long groan it draws from the other. “You want to know what I like, Yukhei, what I want?

“I want you to fuck me like you need it, like you can’t get enough. I want you to take _everything_ I am and replace it with _you_. That’s how I like it,” Mark says, voice surprisingly even, “I like it however you want, just so long as by the end of this I can’t remember my own name.”

Resting his forehead against Mark’s, both of them panting, Yukhei rolls his hips up in rhythm with him. The elder moans, baritone and hoarse, the notes reverberating against Mark’s chest and goddamn he felt that in his _bones_. It’s close, the latter can see Yukhei losing his grip, the twines of his patience fraying more and more the longer Mark ruts against his cock. And yet, it’s not quite enough.

“What about you, Yukhei? Hmm? You know what I want, now; know that I want to feel you inside of me, stretching me open, fucking me so good I cry,” he pauses to gauge Yukhei’s reaction, leaning to nibble on Yukhei’s ear, voice dropping low. He can feel Yukhei losing it beneath him- his hands gripping _that much_ tighter, his breaths heaving _that much_ faster-, Mark just needs to push a little harder. “You wanna see me cry, _Yukhei_? Wanna hear me beg for your cock? You wanna see that? See my pretty hole stretch so wide around you that it aches, suck you deeper like I’m made for it, take you ‘til I can’t fuckin’ breathe? You want that?”

He watches, entranced by the way Yukhei falls apart beneath him. The taller’s form shudders harshly when Mark licks over the prominent vein in his neck, his expression darkening to something sinful, wicked.

“You want to see me fucked out, trembling while I take you? Wanna see me arching pretty from your touch, see me _break_ and _bend_ and _beg_ ‘til I can’t take anymore? ‘Cause I’ll let you. I’ll let you do whatever you want.”  
“Dammit, shit- _gnnh-, Mark_!” Yukhei struggles to speak, abandoning coherent speech in favor of tugging Mark’s jacket off. For a moment, there’s a disconcerting absence of pressure on his spine before he’s slammed back against the door, Yukhei’s hips angling better. The moan that rips from Mark’s lips surprises himself, but he leans into the sensation.

At first, Mark’s proud. His face splits into a self-satisfied grin, watching the Chinese man lose control.

 _He_ did that.

Before he can think to gloat, Yukhei’s descending on him like a man depraved, and the world tilts on its axis. Mark can feel teeth on his neck, a hand tangling harshly in his hair and tugging. There’s a rough, jolting movement, and he’s lifted from against the door. Yukhei sweeps to claim his lips; as good as their earlier kiss was, it’s nothing compared to this.

He kisses like he’s waging war, all teeth and tongue; an abrupt clash contrasted by the lush velvet of his mouth, and the hot, wet slide of his tongue invading Mark. He doesn’t ask for permission this time, there’s no easing into it or warning- just need, and need, and _need_.

Mark can feel Yukhei’s hands on his body, touching, pulling, and then there’s cold air on his shoulders and warmth spanning over his waist, and a firm grip on his ass, kneading him through his jeans.

He does his best to work off Yukhei’s clothes too, but they’re rushing through the apartment, pausing randomly when Yukhei pushes him against walls, grabbing and rubbing at his exposed torso, fingers dancing up and down Mark’s thighs. He hooks his hands underneath Mark’s knees at some point, pivots up to rut their hips together just right. Under the onslaught of new sensations Mark is too overwhelmed to force his eyes open, to do anything. He’s clutching the other’s jacket, holding on for dear life. All he can do is let Yukhei have whatever he wants, touch wherever he pleases.

Then, there’s something soft under Mark’s back and he bounces once, twice on top of a comforter. The sight that greets him when he opens his heavy-lidded eyes is sunrise streaming through the blinds to illuminate Yukhei as he rips his own shirt over his head.

The Canadian tries to kick off his shoes, but they’re already gone, and his belt is undone. He looks back up to Yukhei questioningly- because _excuse me, kind sir, how the fuck_?- when his breath is punched from his lungs. 

He never thought he could come just from looking at a man, but _goddamn_. Yukhei’s all golden skin over rippling muscles, and he wants the man on him, around him, _in_ him. Mark is consumed by the want to lose himself in the other until all he can feel, see, taste is Yukhei. 

“Come here,” he demands, spreading his legs to accommodate the other. Yukhei’s on him in an instant, a maddening weight against Mark’s throbbing groin while the elder hovers just above the flushed, whimpering boy. Mark’s entire body is thrumming with adrenaline and endorphins. Sweat collects on his skin. 

“Lift your hips for me, baby,” Yukhei says, looping his fingers into the waistband of the younger’s jeans.

Mark finds it’s not as easy as it sounds, because Yukhei’s hips are still a heavenly pressure, trapping him against the bed. Mark forces himself up, ruts hard against Yukhei’s crotch, gasps wetly when he feels the other’s erection.

Yukhei lets up just long enough to tug Mark’s pants down, along with his underwear, before he reclaims his place. The cool air on his legs and chest ground him almost as much as the heat from Yukhei’s body does, lets him know this is real.

All he can think, feel, is heat trapped under his skin, hands smooth and uncalloused running over his inner thighs and across his abdomen as Yukhei ravishes Mark’s skin; the younger is left vulnerable, naked, hands curled into the sheets. 

He writhes under the indentations of the elder’s touch, muscles tensing and relaxing with every skim, every prod. Yukhei scours Mark’s frame as the smaller squirms, torment and wonder evident in his expression. Yukhei looks torn, like he can’t decide which dirty little fantasy he should make reality.

Relinquishing his grip on the sheets to hold Yukhei; a hand on Yukhei’s neck forces him closer so that Mark can lean up to lick a bold stripe over his collarbone, while the younger’s other hand drags slowly over the elder’s arousal. It’s heavy, girthy and it twitches in his hand.

There’s nothing remotely cute about the situation, but Mark’s brain equates the movement to a nuzzle, and he resists the urge to coo.

Yukhei’s dick just nuzzled him. That’s kind of really fuckin’ cute.

Yukhei’s reaction, though? Much less snuggle-worthy.

His responding moan spills right next to Mark’s ear, and the Canadian’s cock jumps at the sound, another rush of pleasure sparking under his skin. Too much longer with Yukhei’s thigh on his dick, voice in his ear, breath on his neck, and Mark will come and there’s nothing he can do about it. 

Yukhei flexes his thigh right has Mark grinds up, and heat rolls molten and heavy in his gut, coiling tight. His inner thighs tremble, and a moan rips from the seam of his mouth. “Yukhei- _fuck_ , you gotta stop… I’m going to come if you don’t- _please_ \- just - _ah, aahh_ \- want you _closer_ ,” he says, voice hoarse and strained, his hand faltering on Yukhei’s cock.

“Closer, huh? Closer than this?” Yukhei asks, his body crushed against Mark’s; every ridge and valley aligned, no space between them. He slides down Mark’s form slowly, easing the pressure on the younger’s cock, only to take one of Mark’s nipples in his mouth.

A twisted kind of delight rises in Yukhei’s dark eyes -dilated so much they almost look black, save the outer ring of honeyed coffee- when Mark chokes on a sob, and arcs into the elder’s touch.

“Yes, y- _gah!- in-inside-_ ” he gasps.

Yukhei groans, deep and rough and _something_ that Mark can’t quite name, but then teeth are scraping over his throat- a wet heat sliding over the juncture to his clavicle.

The Chinese man steadies his hands on Mark, slowing down to draw small, lazy circles on his hips. 

“ _You’re going to be the death of me_ …” He whispers over the beautiful, pale expanse of Mark’s sweat-sticky skin. The younger can’t make sense of the Cantonese, but he’s too far gone to care. It sounds good- _feels_ good exhaled over his skin, invading his mind. 

Mark’s moans brokenly, desperately, and Yukhei leans back, eyes searching.

The elder does a double take, both for the sound and the expression. 

The younger’s skin looks softer than the sheets below them, gently rounded over the high curve of his cheekbone, glistening. His face is contorted with pleasure, head tossed back as Yukhei works him over. The smallest possible dimple in the smooth skin leads the eye to the plush, pretty pink of his lips- alluring in their own right, but it’s his eyes that disperse any rational thought; glassy, hungry, and something deeper, darker, _more_. 

_Breathtaking_. 

Yukhei grins wickedly, loving how affected Mark is when he hasn’t even touched the younger’s arousal yet.

“Turn over,” he says, retreating completely from the bed.

For a moment, the cool air is all Mark can feel, and he hates it, wants Yukhei back. The bed dips with Yukhei’s weight when he returns, and a shiver racks the smaller man’s form.

Anticipation winds slowly through his body, a sweet tingle under his skin. His muscles flex taut as he raises his hips slightly, before they fall back onto the bed. The friction of Yukhei’s thigh is gone, and Mark’s losing it. Yukhei stays where he sits on the bed, and Mark waits. He can’t see the other, doesn’t know what he’s planning, and that thought is as exciting as it is nerve-wracking, but right now he needs something more.

He’s strung too high to be left untouched; everything is sensitive and aches for something more, and his dick presses flush against the bed, a comforting relief, but nowhere near what Mark needs.

He can’t take it anymore- not after the teasing-, and he bucks harshly into the bed, desperate, crying out at the scratchy friction. Bittersweet pleasure on the tip of his cock, he grinds into the sheets again. Yukhei’s next to him, fumbling a bit with the lube, unable to take his eyes off Mark long enough to focus. 

Finally, the younger turns his head, mouth bitten raw and red, mottled purples just barely visible on the side of his neck. “ _Please_!” There’s nothing else in his mind, nothing he can think to do other than beg. 

He needs Yukhei, and he needs him now.

The snap of a bottle-cap opening breaks through Mark’s haze, and Yukhei wraps a strong arm around Mark’s waist, pulls his hips up. Mark wriggles back, hoping to find the relief of maddening hands and body heat. He gulps around the wet lump in his throat when Yukhei touches him, his large hands grasp Mark’s ass, kneading roughly. Something warm and soft and moist nudges at the slope of his tailbone, accompanied by Yukhei’s humid breath.

The next thing Mark registers is the coldness that drips down his intimacy. He bucks back against the sensation, moans high, and the wet muscle rolling over his lower back disappears. Yukhei surges forward, up over the younger’s arched form to cover him, his broad chest presses down as his fingers dip between Mark’s cheeks, rubs gentle circles around his entrance.

“ _Yukhei!_ ” he keens as his eyes roll back. His hole tightens against the digit, body clenching slightly before he relaxes again. Yukhei groans, pushes a little harder as his head falls to rest between Mark’s shoulder blades.  
Mark forces himself to untense completely, gathering enough of his wits to spread his knees a little wider, and fuck back onto the finger. Yukhei wanted to lead him up to it, work the opening loose first; he wasn’t prepared for the heat suddenly clenching down on his finger. His hips rut forward at the sensation, brain making the connection and his cock throbs. 

_Fuck_ , Yukhei can’t wait much longer. 

Mark is so beautiful beneath him, arched so prettily, ass up, and the younger’s cock hangs hard and red between his legs. Sweat rolls down Mark’s spine and dots his neck in glistening beads. His hair is stuck to his skin with moisture, eyes glassy as his body reacts on instinct.

The need to take him is almost overwhelming, but Yukhei wants to do this right; he doesn’t want to hurt Mark. So, he’s going to take this slowly, as much as it kills him to be patient. 

Yukhei pushes deeper, carefully, and twists his hand once his index is fully seated. Mark’s cock twitches between his legs, and they’re both panting- the younger barely able to swallow because of his heavy breaths.

Yukhei’s fingers are thick, and Mark tries hard to keep still, knowing what comes next. The intrusion itself is never that great, but the stretch, the sensation if Yukhei quirks his fingers _just so_. The thought of it has enough for Mark to rock back on the other man’s finger, shift the angle of his hips to help Yukhei find _that_ spot.

“Jesus, Mark, you look so good like this, so pretty. You’re doing so well for me, taking me so well. _Fuck, you’re beautiful,_ ” he rumbles into the space between Mark’s shoulder-blades, trailing up to mouth at the sensitive skin of the younger’s nape as he crooks his digit up, searching. Yukhei’s own arousal lies neglected between his legs, aching. 

“ _More_ ,” Mark pleads, half-heartedly struggles against the grip Yukhei has on his hips. Yukhei holds him still, forces him to settle. The younger whines and tries to fight against the pressure, but there’s nothing he can do. Yukhei easily overpowers him, and even though Mark isn’t putting true effort into his struggle -he’s going to do what Yukhei wants, he’s going to be _good_ for him-, the knowledge that even if Mark did it wouldn’t make a difference has the younger writhing on the sheets.

Yukhei’s grip tightens, a growl forming in the back of his throat. “Greedy, aren’t you? I’m knuckle deep inside of you, and all you want is more.” Mark convulses when the tip of Yukhei’s finger brushes past the sensitive bundle he’s been looking for. “Don’t you worry, _baby_. I’m going to take care of you, fuck you open on my cock so good you’ll feel me for weeks. God, I can’t wait to be inside you, have you wrapped around me. You feel so nice, baby, clenching around my finger.  
“You want another, hmm?” Now that he’s found it, Yukhei purposefully brushes past it, not giving Mark the fulfillment he needs.

Not yet.

Without waiting for a response, he presses another in. He knows the second is always worse, always burns, so he pauses to gently massage the group of nerves that has Mark’s hole seizing around him. Mark’s moan is muffled by the pillow.

Well now, Yukhei can’t have that, can he?

He releases Mark’s hip, tangles into his damp hair, tugging just hard enough to force the shorter man’s head up.

“Let me hear you. Be a good boy and let me hear how pretty you sound, baby. Can you do that? Can you be a good boy for me?” Yukhei asks, a lilt in his voice and an upwards tilt on the corner of his lips. 

He works Mark open in earnest now, and he can feel the muscles loosen under his touch, the warm quiver of younger’s fluttering walls. 

Mark nods as much as he can, the burn on his scalp intensifying with the movement, while he babbles incoherent strings of English and Korean that Yukhei can barely decipher. Most of it he’s sure aren’t even words, until one sentence catches his attention.  
Mark repeats “ _I’m a good boy_ ,” over and over, intermixed with garbled pleas and reassurances of how good Yukhei feels inside of him, how thick his fingers are.

Heat rushes through Yukhei, sears him from the inside out. 

His hips rut forward before he can stop himself, brushes against the curve of Mark’s ass and thigh. He’s so high-strung, his cock so neglected, that even the minimal friction sends sparks up Yukhei’s spine. 

His hand returns to Mark’s hip, wraps around and holds him up so they’re pressed so close together he can feel Mark’s erratic heartbeat. Mark keens when Yukhei blankets him, his stature covering Mark almost completely; the younger feels so small, and he loves it. The weight of Yukhei’s length rocking against Mark’s ass in rhythm with his fingers only worsens the sinful pleasure twisting in the smaller man’s gut.

When Yukhei prods a third finger at his entrance, Mark shakes his head- wriggles away. “No- _hng, aah~_ Yuk- _Yukhei_ no, ‘m ready… _Need you_.” He can feel Yukhei’s girth against his arse, had his hand wrapped around it earlier. It’s more than he’s been prepped for, but Mark is okay with that.

He wants the sting, wants the burn; somewhere deep in his mind, he wants to feel this tomorrow- to be reminded even after he’s left, to feel Yukhei even after he’s gone.

Hesitancy apparent in the way his movements falter, it’s obvious Yukhei’s less convinced. “Are you sure?” he murmurs after a beat, his fingers stilling- much to the younger’s dismay.

“Yeah, please, _please_ just fuck me,” he sobs, and tries to roll his hips back. That tips Yukhei over the edge, he gently pulls out of Mark. The elder shuffles around for a condom, and rips open the little square package.

Only the harsh sounds of their breaths and the rustle of sheets fill the room for the next seconds, while Mark struggles to collect himself enough to make one more request.

“Yukhei?” Mark begins, and cranes his neck to see him, gauge his reaction, “May I flip on my back? I-I want to touch you, too.” 

His thighs tremble from holding him up, shake slightly as he speaks.

Yukhei flashes a dangerous smile, wicked intent glinting in the depths of his eyes, pupils blown wide. “I have a better idea.” 

Yukhei tumbles down next to the younger, lies on his side, then leads Mark to straddle him. The easiness in the motion- the way Yukhei doesn’t even strain to adjust Mark exactly how he pleases- has the younger clenching around nothing. He sits up, one thigh on either side of Yukhei’s hips, and the elder’s arousal dips between Mark’s cheeks. Hands firm on Yukhei’s toned chest, bracing himself, he leans into the guidance of the other’s touch.

“Ride me,” Yukhei whispers.

It takes a moment for the words to register, then Mark nods emphatically; he can’t trust his voice. Yukhei’s cock is _right there_ and the thought of finally having it inside him has the younger on the brink of tears. With one hand, he spreads himself, and with the other he aligns Yukhei with his entrance. 

Driven by the tightness in his chest, the white-hot pit in his gut, and the filthy gleam in Yukhei’s eyes, he sinks down, unable to break away from the other’s gaze.

When Yukhei’s tip breaches Mark’s rim, they moan in unison at the stretch. It stings enough for Mark to clench unintentionally. A broken sound spills from Yukhei’s lips at the feeling, soft reassurances follow it while the elder struggles to keep his hips still. Mark slowly sinks down in spite of the burn, encouraged by the broken moan he coaxes from Yukhei.

Yukhei offers praises, leans up to kiss Mark’s chest, tries to ease any discomfort. It’s a good kind of pain, though. Mark likes the twisted pleasure that writhes in his gut, that coils and tightens with every inch he takes.

The decadent, wet slide of Yukhei inside of him is enough to take the last of his sanity; once he’s seated to the hilt, a welcome pain intermixed with tingles of pleasure, Mark settles his hands on Yukhei’s abdomen, watches it flex under his touch.

His chest is heaving underneath Mark, gaze never faltering in intensity, piercing and predatory while Yukhei waits for Mark to adjust. Then, the younger is rolling forward, experimental and hesitant. 

He drops his hips down faster than intended, and white flashes across his vision. All he can feel is Yukhei under him, inside him, his hands grabbing and pulling and teasing and it’s dizzying.

Leaning forward, Mark works his hips down, quickly building a pace. He reciprocates Yukhei’s touches- runs his hands over any part of him he can reach, lingering over spaces that cause Yukhei to buck out of rhythm, or a pleased groan to spill from his lips.  
Mark’s erection is trapped between them, and Yukhei maneuvers one of his wandering hands to wrap around his length-not quite as large as Yukhei, but still something to be proud of-, jerking him off as he fucks into the younger’s tight heat.

Not a single coherent thought passes through Mark’s mind, too overtaken with _want_ , and _need_ , and _close_. His hands stroke Yukhei’s chest, thumbing over his nipples, and the responding guttural moan surprises them both.  
Mark laughs above him, body clamping down around the other in a way that has Yukhei reeling, another grunt echoes in the room.

 _‘They look like tic-tacs,’_ Mark thinks hazily, still giggling quietly- choking on the sounds when Yukhei rolls his hips up that much harder.

Mark’s thighs shake under the strain of lifting himself up, so he adjusts to find a better angle, chases his release. He balances his weight with hands on Yukhei’s thighs, undulating with more force as he circles his hips. Sweat rolls down his body, glimmering in the early morning light, mixes with the saliva left by Yukhei.

“ _Fuck_!” he cries when Yukhei hits his sensitive bundle of nerves at the perfect angle, dead on, and thumbs over the slit in his cock. Babbling again, praise of how good it feels and soft pleas fall from his lips. Mark’s thighs seize up from the pleasure; his rhythm falters.

Yukhei notices, takes pity on him. 

He gently pulls Mark off, but younger keens in dismay, hands scrambling for purchase on Yukhei’s damp skin. He rocks back down to keep the elder inside. Mark needs him, he’s so close, it’s so good, and fuck he just wants to come- wants Yukhei to come, too.

But Yukhei’s too strong. He makes reassuring hums and coos and tells Mark it’s okay as he easily lifts the younger. Mark’s vision blurs when Yukhei moves him. 

He’s on his back again; the sheets are warm from Yukhei’s body, smell like him. 

Yukhei’s hands are under his knees, pushing him up, spreading him open and then he’s inside again, his tip catches on Mark’s rim before he slides home.

“You’re doing so well, baby- feel so good around me. So warm, so tight, taking me like you’re made for me.” He draws almost all the way out, before fucking back in, _hard_ , punctuating his words with the action.

Mark arches against him, dick caught between their bodies. They’re so close together there’s no space left, every dip and and rise pressed skin against skin. Tears gather on his lashes, spill over with every thrust. His body is taught, ready to snap.  
Yukhei’s fucking him boneless, his hands grip Mark with a bruising force, and it’s exactly what Mark wants. 

“ _Close, close close- hhhah!_ ” he mumbles, words falling thickly from his tongue, too far gone. He loves it; loves how all he can see, feel, smell, taste- it’s all Yukhei. He’s taken over Mark, filled him and made it so there’s nothing else in this moment but _Yukhei, Yukhei, Yukhei._

“I know, ba- _gnhh_ \- baby, I am too.” 

The elder’s pace is brutal, unforgiving. Mark twists and writhes beneath him, tries to dive deeper into the pleasure and push away from it simultaneously. It’s too much- Yukhei abuses his sensitivity with every harsh thrust. The taller man’s lips are on Mark’s neck again, mouthing across the expanse, revisiting the marks he’s already made and pressing onto their soreness with his tongue. The skin tingles in his wake.

He laps lavish, wet kisses over Mark’s collarbone, and one of the hands on the younger’s hips relinquishes it’s hold, instead moving below his dripping arousal.

Bypassing Mark’s erection, Yukhei instead focuses on the skin just behind his balls, assaults it in swift, rough circles.

To push the younger over the edge, Yukhei ducks to suck one of Mark’s nipples into his mouth, rolls his tongue over the pink bud, drives his cock as deep as he can. Instead of drawing back out, he just stays pressed against the bundle of nerves, rocking shallowly.

It all becomes too much; the heat under Mark’s skin amounts to a searing flash of white that crosses his vision, and his eyes roll back in his head. He comes, his release spilling onto his abs in thick strips, balls tightening as the bittersweet coil in his gut finally snaps, floods through him.

Yukhei fondles Mark’s balls through his orgasm, gently playing with them while he continues to fuck Mark through it.

The way the younger clenches hard around him, and the choked gasps Mark emits as he rides out his high is enough to finish Yukhei. With one final thrust, he comes inside Mark, buried to the hilt and rocking through it, groaning deep and loud.

The younger doesn’t breathe for a few beats, head thrown back and body limp. Mark feels warm in a different way, cozy, like cuddling linen fresh out of the dryer. There’s this new haze over his mind that isn’t driven by arousal or need, and it’s floaty and _nice_.

Some of his release spilled onto Yukhei’s abs, but the older man doesn’t care. He can’t, because Mark is still wrapped around him, hands absentmindedly tracing lines over Yukhei’s skin, wincing as he becomes oversensitive. Gently, Yukhei pulls away from Mark’s warmth, quietly apologizes when his tip catches on Mark’s rim.

Used condoms feel pretty gross, so he ties the it and tosses it into the trash-bin on the other side of the room.

“You did so well,” Yukhei reassures when lies next to the younger, and drapes one arm over the smaller boy. He doesn’t think Mark heard him, he still looks pretty out of it, but Yukhei is willing to wait. 

Yukhei’s the cuddliest bitch on the face of the planet, especially after sex, so he tucks himself right up against Mark. His larger form curls protectively around the smaller boy, and his chest hums with the praises that dance on the tip of his tongue, beg to be spilled.

He pushes down the bit of affection that tickles at his heart- this isn’t the time for that. They just met, and casually fucked. If it turns into more, that’s great, but if it doesn’t, Yukhei refuses to squander this moment by making more of it than there is.

He’s content with this; watching as Mark slowly comes down, skin glistening and beautiful as his afterglow surrounds him. He tucks the image away in his brain- a picture tacked carefully onto the figurative fridge of his soul.

His main concern is making sure Mark feels safe and isn’t hurt.

When Mark finally does move it’s to snuggle further into Yukhei’s embrace, and that fuzzy ball of affection Yukhei tried to contain expands ten-fold. He takes a deep breath, but can’t remember how to let it back out.

Well shit, now he’s malfunctioning. 

Eventually he becomes dizzy enough that instinct kicks in, but the rushed exhale is filled with the praises and coos he had kept bottled up. The words spill right when Mark grasps reality again, and the happiness that blooms in the younger’s chest is an entirely new kind of dangerous.

They lie like that for a while, the sun now bright in the room, and Yukhei falls quiet once he deems Mark is truly okay. Quiet never lasts in Yukhei’s presence, that much Mark already knows.

“So, you are like, _hard sub_ , huh?” He offers a cheshire-cat grin when Mark splutters. Even though Mark kicks Yukhei’s leg in retaliation for flustering him, he doesn’t pull away from the elder’s embrace. His ears turn red, Yukhei can see the flush spreading down his neck, too, and pride swells behind the taller man’s ribs. 

Yukhei can’t help but think Mark looks beautiful like this, even though all he can see right now is the shorter man’s damp hair sticking out at odd angles. Sure, the back of Mark’s head is attractive ( _all_ of Mark is attractive, and Yukhei may be a teensy bit snatched), but that’s not the point. The point is, he can envision the expression on Mark’s face, had seen one similar when Yukhei first made a bold comment.

He’s probably all wide doe-eyes and scrunched eyebrows, and maybe his mouth is doing that adorable little pouty thing that caught Yukhei’s attention in the first place. 

… Not that Yukhei has memorized Mark’s facial expressions already (he has); he wasn’t ogling the boy _that much_ (he was).

Mark doesn’t respond to Yukhei first, and the other man doesn’t push him. 

“It doesn’t happen that often, sometimes I just fall into that mental space. I try not to with strangers, or even with new relationships because it can be unhealthy. If the person I’m with doesn’t know how to handle it, it can fuck up me up a bit,” Mark fiddles with the frayed hem of Yukhei’s pillowcase as he speaks, his voice small. The atmosphere has shifted, and Yukhei listens intently when Mark continues.

“So, uh, thanks. For, like, not doing that? I guess? It was a bit intense for a first-fuck, so I’m sorry if y-”

“Don’t be,” Yukhei immediately interjects, sitting up so that he can see Mark’s face. “I see what you’re getting at, but don’t be sorry. Sex can be simple or it can be complicated, everyone has needs. What we just did?” Yukhei pauses, forming a ball with his  
hands before waving them wildly, “Blew my mind. I meant it when I said you were perfect.”

Mark is the color of a tomato by the time Yukhei stops talking, and for a second the elder is both endeared and concerned.

The guy’s still breathing, though, right? Wait, what if Mark turns purple next? Yukhei doesn’t know the protocol for this (is there a protocol for this? Maybe a handbook he can buy?). But, then Mark smiles and looks so genuinely happy that Yukhei doesn’t know what to do with himself.

So, he smiles back, just as wide, and resumes ~~his new favorite hobby:~~ cuddling that cute little nerd.

“Thank God, I was really concerned for a second,” Mark laughs, albeit awkwardly. Yukhei is preparing a reply, something along the lines of “Nah, bro, you’re good,” when the younger scrunches his nose.

Just like that, Yukhei’s a goner. His heart does a thing in his chest, and yeah, he’s definitely giving Mark his number.

He’s still wrapped around the smaller boy, but neither of them complain. Dried cum itches on his stomach, and he makes a mental note to clean up in a little while. Right now, Yukhei just wants to bask in the moment.

He doesn’t think _anything_ could get him out of bed.

Apparently Mark’s stomach has other plans, because the second Yukhei finds _that position_ that is so comfortable he could lie there until he dies, it rumbles enough for Yukhei to _feel_ it. The younger chuckles awkwardly (Yukhei guesses it’s a habit of his). “So, about that omelet...” Mark says, fixing his pretty doe-eyes on Yukhei.

Yeah, the Yukhei that thought nothing could get him out of bed? Total idiot, 100% wrong. Present Yukhei wants to sue him, because he was not prepared for the emotional damages of Mark being cute.

He has to look away from Mark’s face because he genuinely can’t take it, not when Mark is glowing and soft and shy- fuck Yukhei’s got it bad. He looks back down, and can’t help himself.

 _Fuck it_.

In the blink of an eye, he leans down, kisses Mark chastely on the nose, and leaps out of the bed. Yukhei catches the scandalized expression on the younger’s face before the elder disappears down the hall, cackling like a mad-man.

The question is: was Mark scandalized by the kiss, or the sight of Yukhei’s form sprinting buck-ass naked out of the room, dick swinging in all its flaccid glory?

**Author's Note:**

> Heyooo, hope you liked this. Please leave a comment and/or a kudos if you did. Both praises and criticisms are welcomed (especially since this is unedited), and encouraged! I totally understand if you're a super shy bean and just wanna poof and read and poof back out, though. It is pretty graphic and I'll probably end up dying while interacting with those who do comment. If nothing else, please do me the favor of drinking a bottle of water and breathing some oxygen. Stay healthy kiddos :)


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